Harry's dead
by oldmule
Summary: Post 9.1ish agony.
1. Chapter 1

**Had intended to give myself and the rest of us a day off from angst but then this came upon me.**

**Set post 9.1ish.**

"Harry's dead."

Ruth looked at Dimitri.

She continued to look at him. She wasn't processing what he was saying.

"Ruth. I'm so sorry," said Beth.

Why was Beth apologising, she didn't understand.

"Ruth, do you understand?"

She stared at Dimitri. He was still speaking.

"Harry's been killed. His plane went down. "

"His plane," she repeated finally breaking her silence.

"Yes, the plane crashed over the North Sea. No one survived."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, we're sure," he looked to Beth who nodded.

"We should tell Malcolm," Ruth said after a moment.

"Malcolm?"

"We'll need a reading, he'll have something picked out."

"Ruth are you ok?"

"Yes, Dimitri, I'm fine, I'll be fine."

She picked up her pen and began making a list.

* * *

They gathered for the memorial service.

The small church was surprisingly full. It seemed Harry had had more friends than anyone might have expected. Had he been there he would have explained that half of them were far from friends and probably just wanted to make sure the old bastard was dead and gone.

Catherine sat on the front pew with her mother and brother. Only she seemed genuinely upset.

Ruth and the others sat at the back.

Malcolm stood and read

(from _A Valediction: forbidding mourning by John Donne_.)

_Our two souls therefore, which are one,_

_Though I must go, endure not yet_

_A breach, but an expansion, _

_Like gold to aery thinness beat._

_If they be two, they are two so_

_As stiff twin compasses are two,_

_Thy soul the fixed foot, makes no show_

_To move, but doth, if th'other do._

_And although in the centre sit,_

_Yet when the other far doth roam,_

_It leans, and hearkens after it,_

_And grows erect, as that comes home._

_Such wilt thou be to me, who must_

_Like th'other foot, obliquely run;_

_Thy firmness makes my circle just,_

_And makes me end, where I begun._

The choice of the poem may have been lost on many but those who truly knew Harry and Ruth recognised why Malcolm had chosen it. They were as two feet of the draftsman's compass moving always together, but apart. Orbiting each other and yet completing the circle.

The church emptied, Ruth remained. She was as still, as calm, as practical as she had been all week.

She said she needed a moment.

They had watched over her since it had happened, all of them vigilant on the grid and Beth vigilant at home. Ruth was in shock, they knew that more than she did. They were waiting.

Beth looked at the others, they had left her alone for long enough, she turned back through the church doors.

Ruth was sat at the foot of the altar. Her two hands clenched over her mouth halting the scream that burned in her throat. Her eyes were wide as the tears flowed from them. Her face was a mask of pain as she sat and gently rocked herself back and forth, crumpled on the cold stone floor.

Beth ran to her and held her and told her to let it all out.

**Feel there may need to be more as I'm too depressing to end it there.**


	2. Chapter 2

"He asked me to marry him."

Beth was sure Ruth must have run dry of tears, but at this moment she knew that _she_ certainly hadn't.

"Beth, why are you crying?"

"Oh, Ruth, I'm sorry. Why didn't you tell us?"

Ruth looked at her. "What was there to tell?"

"Had you chosen a date?" Beth said wiping her eyes, trying to be strong for Ruth but stung by the bitter timing of his death.

"Date?" said Ruth, "I said no."

Beth looked at her.

"Why?"

"I don't know," said Ruth.

* * *

Life on the Grid was hard. Their loss hung heavy. Their new boss, a 'yes' man from six, rushed over by the Home Secretary, was not Harry. No one was Harry.

They were doing their jobs. Ruth was functioning and very little else.

* * *

"Hi, is that Ruth?"

"Yes."

"It's Catherine, Harry's daughter."

"Hi."

"Hi."

"How are you doing?"

"Fine. Well, you know," said Catherine wondering why people always said fine when they clearly weren't.

"Yes" said Ruth she knew very well what she meant.

"Ruth, do you think we could meet. I have something that I think is yours."

"Mine? Yes, of course. Is tonight alright?"

"That's good." For a moment she just sounded like him. "Will you come round to dad's, around eightish?"

"Oh," Ruth was thrown slightly, "Ok, I'll see you tonight."

"Bye Ruth."


	3. Chapter 3

They had only ever really seen each other at the funeral yet Ruth had heard Harry talk about Catherine and she had heard her father talk about Ruth. It was a comfort to think that they were two people to whom he had meant so much.

And now here they were both were sitting in Harry's living room, without him.

Ruth was determined not to cry, it was not what Catherine needed or deserved, but it was hard. She was surrounded by Harry. The thought came into her head that she may have lived here with him if things had been different, if she'd said yes. She dug her fingernails into the heel of her hand until the pain stopped the tears pricking her eyes. No more of those thoughts.

"He talked about you."

Ruth looked up, not sure of her own voice.

"He didn't really say very much but I knew there was somebody he cared about, you could tell from the way he spoke."

"He was very proud of you." It was all Ruth could manage, her hands hurt but the tears were still too close.

Catherine could see Ruth was struggling and she, too, was close to the edge.

"Tea?" she asked quietly.

"Thanks" said Ruth, gratefully.

* * *

"I've been trying to sort through dad's things. He was hardly a hoarder, which is probably a blessing."

Ruth smiled.

"I found quite a few photos of Graham and I that I don't remember seeing before. I didn't know he had them."

"I think he was always disappointed that he'd let you both down."

"I wish he'd had more time. Maybe I could have got him and Graham to talk again."

There was a silence as they both regretted things that had gone undone, things that remained unsaid.

"Ruth, I found something else in his desk."

Catherine handed her an envelope, it looked a little dog eared and well handled.

Ruth looked questioningly as she took it. It was blank.

"I'm sorry, I read it. I didn't know what it was," said Catherine.

Ruth pulled a single sheet of paper from it. It too looked like it was a few years old and had been read and reread many times. She turned it over.

* * *

_Ruth, I'm lost._

_I stand on the grid and I can't talk to you._

_I sit in my office and I can't see you._

_I come home and I can't phone you._

_I don't know where you are. _

_And the hardest thing is that I know that I could find you, but if I do I'll just endanger you further and so I have to sit here writing a letter that will never be posted, writing words that will never be read._

_I'm lost, Ruth._

_I'm lost without you._

_I close my eyes and see you sailing away, knowing that's the last image of you I'll ever have, the last chance I'll ever have to tell you what you wouldn't let me tell you. I love you, Ruth. I wish I'd told you. I wish you'd let me. I wish you were here._

_Ruth._

_I try and imagine that things could change that you could come back to me. That one day I'd just be sat there and you'd just walk in and sit opposite me and say 'Hello Harry' and smile that smile. _

_I think about it all the time. If you came back, Ruth. If you came back I'd tell you._

_You wouldn't be able to stop me. I'd never let you go again. If you came back._

_I'll wait, that's the easy part of all this. I'll wait, in case you do come back. _

_I'll be here. Waiting._

_Ruth._

_My Ruth._

_

* * *

_

Catherine held her and the two of them cried together.

**

* * *

Just made myself cry writing this! Hang on in there.**


	4. Chapter 4

Time is a healer.

So far for Ruth it was far from it.

The more the days passed by, the more time she had to reread his letter. He'd spent his days imagining her return and now she spent hers imagining how he had felt when she'd eventually walked in and sat opposite him, only for him to be told she had a husband and son. No wonder he'd never told her.

She tortured herself with it over and over again.

All she had ever done was push him away and yet he'd always been there.

Until now.

* * *

She hadn't really slept, again.

It didn't matter. Nothing really mattered.

She picked up the post and added it to the unopened pile on the hall table. She'd get around to it sometime.

* * *

At her desk she sat and she looked into his office. She didn't go in there anymore.

"I'm lost, Harry. I'm lost without you."

* * *

Beth was away. Ruth was glad. The house to herself and she could cry whenever she wanted.

She closed the front door behind her.

"Hello, Ruth."

It was Harry.

* * *

_Oh yee, of little faith! I may be many things but a Harry killer, I'm not!_


	5. Chapter 5

Time stood still.

Harry hoped she was pleased to see him. He smiled.

She hit him.

"You bastard!"

She hit him again. Harder.

"Ruth! What's wrong?"

"What's wrong!" she screamed at him. "What's wrong?"

She turned away lashing anything within her reach to the floor.

"If I had a gun right now, I swear I would bloody well shoot you!"

"Ruth, please.."

"Do not 'Ruth, please' me!"

"But, I.."

"Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. I hate you, Harry. You bastard. You heartless, hateful bastard." She screamed and finally sank to the sofa.

He decided to keep quiet for a moment.

He hoped the hurricane had passed over, either that or he was in the eye of the storm and still had to pass out the other side.

"Ruth..."

"Don't" she warned, but quieter now.

He waited.

And waited.

Eventually she looked up at him. "Go on, then," she challenged.

"I'm guessing you didn't get my message," he said.

"Your message?"

"Clearly you didn't." he was sheepish but it was far, very far from endearing.

"No, Harry, I didn't get your message," she said coldly.

Harry glanced at the former pile of post which was now spread randomly around the room. "I sent it through two sources I trust, it should have got to you before the plane crashed."

"Oh, should it."

"Yes. It explained everything."

"Did it."

"Yes. Even if you got it late then you should have known I was alright."

Something was hurled at his head.

"Do you think I was in any fit state to open the mail after that. Oh, yes, of course, that would have been right at the top of my to do list, let's open the post in case there's a message from beyond the grave."

"Sorry," he said.

"We buried you. We grieved for you. Do you think 'sorry' comes anywhere close?"

"Well, no I…."

"Don't even think about answering that!"

"I had to go dark. I didn't know how long for. I told the Home Secretary and I told you. Well, I thought I had told you. The plane crash was convenient for my.."

"Convenient!"

"Wrong word, I didn't mean convenient, it just helped my cover and I thought you would know I was fine and you'd have the discretion to tell anyone who really needed to know , like, well, the team and, and Catherine."

"Oh yes, Catherine! Nice of you to remember her too! Maybe you should have thought about that when we were crying in each others arms."

She paused but only for a moment. "Well, I hope she's bloody well sold your house by now, you cruel bastard."

Harry wasn't worrying too much about his house, he had fixed his attention on one sentence only, 'we were crying in each others arms'.

'We'. Her and Catherine.

Ruth and Catherine.

Ruth had been crying for him.

"Out, Harry. Get out."

"But…"

"Now!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Very Short one! End in sight, pos 2 to go.**

He was alive.

She hated him for it. But he was alive.

All the things she needed to say to him, now she could. She didn't want to, instead she wanted to hit him again.

Finally the anger abated somewhat and she thought about crying but she was beyond it.

She picked up the glass and debris from the floor and turned her attention to the post which was still lying around. One letter stood out, it was plain and unextraordinary. She opened it. The coded message was simple and said only that Harry intended to drop under the radar for a few weeks and for her to use her own judgement in case it became important for anyone to know. She was about to toss it in the bin when she saw the postscript written on the back of the paper.

_I'm lost without you, Ruth_.

Now she cried.


	7. Chapter 7

**First line totally applies to me, too!**

Ruth was emotionally drained. She was spent.

She stood up and poured a humongously large glass of wine. She didn't know where to put herself, where she wanted to be, she was lost in the dark, she was restless. She turned to the window and gazed out at the normality of the street. Except the street wasn't normal. At the end of her path, leant against the gate post stood Harry. He had been there for two hours.

* * *

She hated him but she said she'd cried for him.

So she _did_ feel something. _Then, she did_. But what about now? How did she feel now?

He heard something and looked up. Hanging slightly open was Ruth's front door.

* * *

"I'm not sorry I hit you."

"You don't have to be. I'm sure I deserved it."

"Whiskey?"

He nodded.

"How _is _Catherine?" he asked repentantly.

"Grieving. Regretting."

"I'll go and see her."

"Maybe you should call first, it's a bit of a shock."

"You're right, as usual" he added.

She handed him the tumbler.

"Surprised there are any left," he said and smiled hesitantly.

She half smiled.

"Harry, have you any idea what you've put us all through?"

"No, it seems not."

She shook her head.

"What have I put _you_ through, Ruth?"

"Hell. And back." she sighed wearily and sat down.

A moment passed.

"Did Malcolm choose the reading?" he asked.

"Yes."

"What was it?"

"John Donne."

"A Valediction?"

She nodded and he smiled as he said,

"Such wilt thou be to me, who must like th'other foot, obliquely run;

Thy firmness makes my circle just, and makes me end, where I begun."

She looked at him. He was often a surprise.

"Harry, I read your letter."

"I'm sorry it was late."

"No, I read your other letter, the one you could never post, the one I would never read."

He stared at her. He knew it off by heart, he had read it and lived it so many times. Now she had read it and seen deep into the heart of him.

She looked at him a long time before she spoke.

"Harry, I'm lost.

I stood on the grid and I couldn't talk to you.

I sat at my desk and I couldn't see you.

I came home and I couldn't phone you.

I didn't know where you were.

I was lost, Harry. I was lost without you."

The tears rolled down her face as she sat quietly. He didn't move. He looked across the room at her and his eyes welled with tears.

"If you come back, Harry. If you come back I'll tell you.

You won't be able to stop me. I'll never let you go again. If you come back."

"I'm back, Ruth."

"I love you, Harry."

"I love you. Always."

And they cried.

_I am epilogue-less. That is enough! Hope you kind of enjoyed in a masochistic way!_


End file.
